


On the Pedestal, and Off

by LainellaFay



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LainellaFay/pseuds/LainellaFay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They hold each other up. When one falls, they all fall down together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted on ffnet

* * *

  **Chapter 1** **  
**

* * *

 

 

_"Let's dominate the middle school circuit!"_

A promise the two of them made together, _cross my heart and hope to die_ , should they fail to achieve it. Yukimura smiled at his friend, Sanada, who looked slightly grouchy, but Yukimura knew that he was happy; smiling on the inside maybe. Yukimura turned to look at the tennis courts in Rikkaidai Fuzoku, where the two of them chose to enter for middle school. The seniors were strong, strong enough to win the Kantou Tournament for multiple years, but not strong enough.

Yukimura's face hardened. He prayed for the best talents to enter in his year. He wasn't aiming for mediocre. Their only goal was at the top; to be the number one – Nationals Champions. Yukimura didn't know what was waiting for him at the top, but he figured it was worth a try. After all, there wasn't anything in the world that was nothing but glorious.

Yukimura found the first member besides Sanada and himself to be part of his winning team. Yanagi Renji, a boy with a weird haircut, but good. Yukimura approached him the next day, offering him a place on the regulars, which he had already planned to set up by the time he was in his second year. Yanagi was slightly taken aback, but smiled and agreed, knowing of Yukimura's plan before the latter could even explain. That was the first and last time Yanagi managed to read Yukimura's mind, for he became more weary after that.

There were others who Yukimura considered, a boy with a smirk etched on his face and attention-grabbing silver hair; a calm and composed brown haired boy; a hyper active red head and a bald darker skinned boy. They had the potential, much more than the other imbeciles who only wanted to be in a famed club, but not at the level Yukimura wanted yet. But he kept an eye on them just in case.

Yukimura never counted on being chosen to be a regular, together with Sanada and Yanagi. It didn't matter, _what luck_ , he thought. He turned to Sanada, it looked like they could fulfill their goal that very year. To say the least, Rikkaidai swept the floor with their opponents and left with the championship flag and trophy in their hands. Yukimura, Sanada, and Yanagi made it big in the middle school circuit: The Three Demons, they were called. Yukimura hid a smirk. Good, let rumours fly, leave the opponents shaking in their boots; they would win again the next year.

.~.

  
Finally, the strongest team Yukimura dreamed of. Consisting of himself, Sanada, Yanagi, Yagyuu, Niou, Marui, Jackal and a freshman, Kirihara. They could do this. Yukimura flashed a smile at Sanada and knew that, at that moment, they would fulfill their promise. With this team, they could do it.

He turned to address the new regulars. "I have only one thing to say." The atmosphere became tense, and the regulars stood even straighter, waiting for him to continue. "We're representatives of our school, needless to say, we aim to protect our championship. However, I do not only aim to protect our championship." He paused, and glanced across their faces. "Our goal is to _dominate_ the tournament. To set a new record. I'm not hoping for a near win, I want a clean one. One where it isn't _"oh, we could have lost if we didn't do this or that"_ , I want us to be a team where everyone look at us and shivers would run down their spines. That is all I'm expecting and _will_ see from all of you. Practice will be tough, a single bit of nonsense and you'll be kicked off the regulars immediately. Understood?"

There was a moment of silence, as if waiting for his words to sink in. Yukimura smiled widely when he heard echoes of, "Yes sir!", a few moments later. Really, he couldn't have wished for better.

.~.

  
Niou is a trickster, but he doesn't mess around during practice. Marui had lower stamina, and Yukimura knew that it was harder for him to cope with the Spartan training they did nearly everyday, but he never made a single sound of complain. Kirihara was the youngest amongst them, but he kept up perfectly with the menu, and would even do more if it weren't for Yanagi who told him that over-training could cause injuries.

Yukimura completed his warm-up laps first and stood back, admiring the effort his teammates put in their training. Yukimura took a sip of water and wiped some perspiration off his forehead with his wristband. Yanagi went to stand next to him, his breath slightly laboured from the laps, and looked at Yukimura straight in the eye. Yukimura gazed back at the brown eyes and wondered how long it had been since he last saw them. A week? Maybe two?

"What is it, Renji?" Yanagi rarely opened his eyes, number one. Number two, the look in his eyes told Yukimura that it was something of importance.

"Seiichi, you haven't been training more than the menu have you?"

Yukimura was slightly startled, but he showed none of that on the outside. "What makes you say that?"

"Your muscles are strained. You took about a minute longer than your usual record to complete those laps."

Yukimura had known from the start, but Yanagi was sharper than he had imagined. "I'm fine, Renji. It's nothing to worry about."

"Seiichi," Yanagi didn't waver, "this is what I've been preventing Akaya from doing. It's not good to overwork your muscles, your body needs its rest too. I understand your determination, Seiichi, but you're – "

"I'm fine," Yukimura said sternly, interrupting Yanagi in mid-sentence. Yanagi pressed his lips tightly together and closed his eyes again. That conversation was over.

After tennis practice, Yukimura ignored Yanagi's warning and continued to push himself further at home, training until he literally collapsed. He had to fulfill their promise. Domination required strength, and strength only comes from practice.

.~.

  
A few weeks prior to the District Tournament, Yukimura fainted from overexertion.

When he awoke to find himself in the infirmary, Yanagi was standing by the bedside and Yukimura said, "Don't say I told you so."

Yanagi didn't, but carefully watched his teammate as Yukimura got up and headed to tennis practice. He made sure that Yukimura did less than the menu that day, much to the latter's annoyance. Although, he couldn't stop Yukimura from training more on his own after tennis practice.

Yukimura fainted a few more times after that, but he always shrugged it off, never heeding Yanagi's advice. Rikkaidai kept their championship for the second time.

.~.

  
For the first time in a long time, Yukimura Seiichi was scared.

Snow fell all around him, as his body lay on the cold and hard concrete. Yukimura heard Sanada yelling out his name, and multiple sets of footsteps dashing towards him. This was different from the others, he didn't black out immediately. Yukimura tried to move his body, he could barely feel his fingers, much less move them. His eyelids slowly became heavier and heavier, and Yukimura saw darkness.

_Cancer…paralysis…_

God has a funny way of treating his 'Child'. Yukimura bitterly laughed.

.~.

  
Whispers around the courts sounded like the buzzing of bees to Marui; persistent and annoying. It didn't help that their tennis jerseys were the colours of bumblebees. The ball whizzed past his left cheek. He hadn't noticed it coming. Marui heard Jackal say something behind him, saving the ball he missed. Marui didn't know what his doubles partner said, it was muffled out by the buzzing in his ears. Probably something about focusing, Marui guessed.

Marui took a swing, he missed. He thought he could reach it. But he didn't. Marui didn't know what had gotten into him. The court lines where blurred, the net seemed taller than normal, the ball was fuzzy – more fuzzy than it usually is. The damned buzzing in his ear. Marui shook his head vigorously and squeezed his eyes shut as he counted to ten. Slowly, as he paced his breathing. He reopened them. The ball was just on his right. His arm quickly shot out to volley it. He missed again. Marui growled irritably under his breath.

"Marui's not focusing. This reckless playing could cause injuries, Genichirou," Yanagi informed Sanada, who was supervising the match. Sanada had a deep frown, and lines on his forehead from furrowing his eyebrows for too long. Sanada nodded, a moment delayed, Yanagi noted. He wrote it in his notebook, torn and worn out from its usage.

"Marui!" barked Sanada, and the volley specialist halted in his motion. "Do drills with the first years until you can get your mind in the right place. We have no need for unfocused regulars getting themselves injured because of their foolishness."

Yanagi glanced at Sanada, realising that the latter wasn't really looking at the match. His eyes were looking in that direction, yes, but he didn't seem to be _seeing_ it. Yanagi took down more notes on Sanada in his notebook. He ensured to write down the number of wrinkle lines on his forehead, the glaze over Sanada's eyes and the frown that was two millimetres deeper than normal.

Yanagi heard footsteps approaching them but his pen continued to fly across the page, his eyes never looking up. From the footsteps and voice that followed, Yanagi knew that it was Yagyuu.

"Sanada-kun, pardon me for being late. The Student Council meeting took longer than expected."

Yanagi nodded slightly, noting that it was Tuesday, the day of the Student Council's weekly meeting. He only looked up to observe Sanada's reaction. Would there be a punishment for the Gentleman? Yanagi tried to guess Sanada's response. No, Yagyuu was caught up due to the Student Council meeting, even Sanada was reasonable enough not to fault Yagyuu for it.

"…twenty laps after you're done changing."

Sanada was again a bit slow in replying, Yanagi picked up. Indeed, there was something troubling him. Perhaps stress? Yanagi wrote down in his notebook beside Sanada's name. Also, the punishment was light. Yanagi struck out the comment about Sanada being reasonable. Sanada normally gave a huge punishment or none at all; the former being more likely. He circled the word _stress_ in his notebook and continued observing his teammate.

.~.

  
Strength. That was all he needed, all he wanted. That was all he thought of as Kirihara swung his racket as hard as he could, hitting the ball with such great impact that it rebounded off the wall with a loud _bam_.

_We'll wait for your return undefeated!_

Kirihara threw another tennis ball up in the air and swung his racket as fast as he could. He had to become stronger. Stronger than anyone, so that no one could ever defeat him. For Yukimura, for Rikkaidai. Those were the only words he needed to motivate himself to push himself to greater lengths. Kirihara kept on training.

.~.

  
When Kirihara didn't show up to practice for a week, Yanagi finally spoke up, "Genichirou, it seems that Akaya have been training by himself for the past few days." He had found it interesting that none of the regulars realized the junior's absence, and had hung back waiting for someone to say so. The slight widening of Sanada's eyes confirmed it. "You hadn't noticed."

Sanada gritted his teeth together. "Renji. How long?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"How long have you known?"

Yanagi flipped through his notebook. He didn't need to, every single bit of data was already recorded in his brain, but he did it anyway, for appearance's sake. "Since the first day Akaya missed practice."

"Renji!" Sanada barked. There was a flare in his eyes. "Why didn't you inform me of this immediately?"

Yanagi squeezed his lips shut. He hadn't thought about it, the only thing in his mind was the data. Observing how long it took before the regulars realized the difference, trying to figure out what was going on in their minds that made them lose sight of all the tiny details they usually spotted at the speed of light. It was simply an experiment.

"Renji, do you know where he is?" Sanada's eyes were stern and fierce, but the anger in his voice was gone. Perhaps he felt that it was his fault for not realising sooner. Yanagi made sure he took note of that.

"The tennis club he frequents. I've heard from a few members that he practiced there everyday. It was also interesting to find out that they all feared to approach him, I wonder what happened – " Yanagi mumbled to himself.

Sanada drowned out the rest of Yanagi's mumbling by ordering Jackal to fetch Kirihara. A glance at Marui, and Sanada also told Jackal to buy a cake from the bakery, commenting that Marui seemed to be sugar-deprived. Yanagi wrote _sugar-deprived_ next to Marui's name in his notebook, as well as _lack of focus_ , and wondered if the two linked. He also waited for a sign of complaint from Jackal, but was surprised to find none.

A large question mark appeared beside Jackal's name in Yanagi's notebook.

.~.

  
Dark circles started to form around Sanada's eyes. He was also constantly rubbing them, Yanagi noted. He suspects that his friend was feeling the strain of handling the reins while their captain was getting medical attention. While Yanagi was wondering if he should offer to take over for the day, Yagyuu entered the courts and the data master realized that the Gentleman was late.

Strange.

Yanagi checked his digital wristwatch for the date. Did the Student Council have an emergency meeting? No, he would have known. Yagyuu was before the two before Yanagi could come up with another reason, so the data master decided to linger and hear firsthand from the Gentleman instead.

"Sorry for my tardiness, Sanada-kun."

Yanagi's eyes opened just a fraction. No reason stated. Again, strange. Sanada, on the other hand, did not seem to have noticed Yagyuu's lack of explanation—somehow Yanagi doubt that any of the other regulars picked up on their teammates' quirks—and just waved him off; apparently too distracted to bother with the punishments. As Yagyuu turned to head towards the locker room, Niou walked by and gave a friendly yet firm pat to his partner's shoulder. Yanagi caught a whiff of Niou's deodorant; had it always been that strong?

He looked down at the page, realising that he had reached the end of that notebook—he was sure he recently changed his notebook—,scribbled Niou's name and deodorant down on the back cover and closed it. Yanagi supposed he had quite a lot of research slash thinking to do that approaching weekend—that, and some shopping.

.~.

  
Sanada yawned for the thirtieth time in the span of an hour. He rubbed feverishly at his sore eyes and wished for them to just _stop aching_. It was getting harder and harder to keep them open; he wasn't lacking on sleep, so he couldn't think of any reason for his peculiar drowsiness.

_"…Sanada-kun?"_

Dammit. Sanada blinked repeatedly at the blackboard, then glanced at his teacher. The acting-captain of the boys' tennis club fought against the strong urge to just— _curl up and sleeeep_ —and asked, "I'm sorry, I missed the question."

"You might want to wash your face. You look tired." His teacher's face was filled with concern at the lack of attention one of her star pupils was displaying. "Come see me at the end of the period," she informed him just as he stepped out of the classroom to follow her suggestions. Sanada raised his hand to grab the edge of his cap, only to remember that he was indoors and not out on the courts, frowned and placed his hand on his eyes. _Damn_ , he did not have the time for that.

.~.

_  
Marui's lack of focus needs some looking into, perhaps some drills…challenges?—no, seeing Marui's reflexes during the recent practices, he'd be more likely to injure himself. The District Tournaments are approaching really quickly…hold on, when are they coming up? The week after next? He'd better check…where was he? Right, Marui…_

Sanada nodded when his teacher paused. He supposed it was the right action because she continued her speech.

_Didn't Renji say something about Akaya? What was that boy doing?—right, not attending practices and training off somewhere else. Jackal brought him back that one practice, but what about those after that…was Akaya there?_ He can't remember. _He should go and visit Yukimura at the hospital…maybe after practice today. Shit, he has yet to plan for the training session this afternoon. And wasn't there something that needed to be replaced?_

"Sanada-kun? Are you listening to me?"

He mentally shook himself out of his thoughts and crisply replied, "Yes."

His teacher sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "I think you need to take a break, Sanada-kun. I can see signs of stress, I think it's safe to assume that it is coming from handling the tennis club while Yukimura-kun is away."

_What? A break? He has no time for that! There's the District Tournament and whatnot. How is he supposed to keep the team in tip-top shape if_ he _took a_ break?

So he voiced his opinion, except with more formality. Before his teacher could make any other suggestions, he said, "I have to attend the next class, please excuse me."

.~.

  
Niou have never imagined himself doing this; a cancer stick between his fingers and puffing out breaths of smoke, watching the white swirls float and vanish before his eyes. But then again, he'd never imagined Yukimura to collapse on them, diagnosed with a disease. He felt it was funny how life worked.

Niou knows, he _knows_ , that he shouldn't even be doing this—it's going to screw up his lungs so bad and _dammit_ , he _needs_ them for tennis. Stamina and all that crap. But it's relaxing and ever since he found that out…he can't stop. He's addicted and he knows it. He knows it. Knows the bad effects of his actions but he _needs_ to do this, for he's going crazy and he can't. He just doesn't know how he can go through each day without going through half a pack of these sticks anymore.

So he continues—continues _fucking_ up his lungs and regretting, but unable to stop.

Niou tosses the cigarette down onto the ground and grinds his shoe over it. He digs through his bag and pulls out his deodorant—it's nearly empty and he has to buy a new one. Niou knows that his teammates all has their own problems to worry about and he can't drag them into his stupid addiction and troubles. So he sprays, sprays until he can't smell the scent of nicotine on his body—until his _teammates_ can't. Then he tosses a mint into his mouth and bites down hard on it as he pushes off the side of the building—a security camera blind spot and his current favourite hiding place at school—and heads towards the courts for tennis practice.

.~.

  
Head over to the tennis club and drag Akaya to tennis practice. Pick up some cake for Bunta on the way back.

A few months back, Jackal knows that he would be mumbling complaints under his breath the whole way, but now, he really just doesn't care anymore. He's tired, doesn't have the energy…and simply…don't care.

What did Sanada ask him to do? Right. Head over to the tennis club and drag Akaya to tennis practice. Pick up some cake for Bunta on the way back.

.~.

  
Marui jiggles his leg as he sits on the wooden bench, chewing furiously at his gum, which has lost its taste ages ago. They are waiting for their first match of the District Tournament to start and Marui tries to remember whether he was in Singles 2 or Singles 1. Sanada had read out the line-up mere minutes ago, but Marui couldn't seem to _listen_ to the words properly. It happened a lot these past few months without Yukimura around. So Marui twists around and pokes his doubles partner in the guts and asks him about the line-up. Jackal's just staring at him blankly and that was bloody weird, because Jackal's anything but _blank_ …a grumble here and a sigh there but not _blank_. Jackal swiftly replies and Marui nods.

Singles 2. Okay, that's not bad. He won't need to play this match; Rikkaidai will wipe the floor—courts—with the first three sets anyway. Then it hits him. Darn it, it's their first match so they have to play all five matches. Marui chews harder and nearly bites his tongue in the process. Shit, he'd better stop that or he'll be entering the courts with a bloody tongue. He's not nervous— _dammit_ —but his performance during practice have been less than mediocre lately and he just _doesn't know why he can't fucking concentrate_. Sanada's been bitching about that and shit, he tries, he _tries_ to focus but the ball just ends up being this fuzzy piece of flying shit. He doesn't know what have gotten into him and how was he meant to fix it if he doesn't know what's causing it.

Singles 2. He just needs to win it. _Fuck_. A match, a _tennis_ match. He's done it plenty of times. Six games, that's all. Win six games, don't let the opponent get a point. Marui gets up and spits his gum into the rubbish bin. He gives his cheeks a few hard pats— _slaps_ —and squeezes his eyes shut.

_Come on Bunta. It's not hard. All you need to do is focus. Focus._

_For Yukimura, for Rikkaidai._ He chants that in his mind and when he reopens his eyes, they were steady—slightly wavering, but steady nonetheless. _For Yukimura, for Rikkaidai_ …

.~.

  
Sanada visits him at the hospital every week.

Yukimura sits on _the_ —it's always _the_ because he refuses to think of it as _his_ —hospital bed and looks out of the window. He knows that he's being rude but he can't be all that bothered when he's feeling like…this, whatever this is. The District Tournament was on the previous weekend; he stares at the calendar every morning to keep in touch with society, to tell himself that he's not disconnected just because he's stuck in the hospital like an invalid, it helps to calm him, a little bit.

"Yukimura."

He doesn't divert his eyes from the scene below the window pane. "We won." It was phrased as a statement, because it was _obvious_ , there could be no way that Rikkaidai would have lost in the Districts, not ever.

"…yes."

Yukimura notices the slight pause that Sanada makes before replying, and tries to remember the times when Sanada didn't—times before his collapse, he realizes. He doesn't ask, because he has other things on his mind, things like…death. It was really sad for a fifteen year old to be thinking about death, but it was the truth. "That's good."

The conversation stills. He hears Sanada pace around the room, rustling of wrappers, the tap running, and the clinking of porcelain. Yukimura feels the sun on his face and shuts his eyes; he thinks about the days where he ran under the bright sky, laughing and cheerful.

He doesn't hear Sanada leave the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, it's been a while. Took longer than I'd expected to cough this up, plus all the studying and yeah... Completely unedited, but I might revise this later in the future. God, I think I might have screwed up some of the characterisation and stuff. Argh, I don't know. Just thought I should get it up first, before like well, people thinking I've given up on this already. So if you find any mistakes, tell me.

* * *

 

Yagyuu was increasingly being tardy to practice, always arriving ten to fifteen minutes after practice officially started. Yanagi's data book is filling up, yet again, but he has still yet to solve the equation. Dealing with people was harder than simple data points on tennis strokes, movements, and form; there were more variables to consider.

Yanagi never knew how much he liked it, equations always have solutions; complex or whatnot, and so, he continues.

(He doesn't realize what _really_ he was doing it for.)

 

.~.

 

Sanada pinched the bridge of his nose.

Kirihara's temper was getting out of hand. There have been two trips to the infirmary with a twisted ankle and broken wrist because they happened to _look_ at him the 'wrong' way; the only consolation was that the injured were non-regulars.

Sanada wishes for Yukimura to be there beside him. A futile thought, but he wishes.

He feels the strain in his eyes and sighs, giving them a nice, hard rub; not that it helps with the pain, but the action acts as a reminder for him to re-organize his jumbled thoughts. They never used to be this way, Sanada remembers the times his thoughts were clear and distinct, however, now they seem to overlap and get mixed up and he just _forgets_ stuff.

Yagyuu steps in by his side and he waves his hand, dismissing the spectacled boy. Late again, Sanada realizes, but by the time, Yagyuu was already two-thirds to the locker room and Sanada didn't know what he would have done even if he noticed earlier. He lets it go, because there was another problem, such as the problem with Kirihara and his destructive temper and power.

The boy was getting strong, _that_ Sanada can tell, even with his thoughts in disarray. It was evident in his performance during the Districts and whatever practice matches Sanada set him up with—he fears to match the second year with one of the other regulars; they could not afford any regulars being unable to play at this point in time.

Besides, Marui was still having trouble focusing…

Sanada shakes his head, he was getting sidetracked. He blinks and wearily eyes the courts, taking in the mustard yellow of their school jackets and tries to think about how Yukimura would deal with the problem at hand.

 

.~.

 

Niou raises his hand as a greeting to his partner. Yagyuu walks past him without any indication of noticing. Niou slowly drops his hand and watches the back of his doubles partner. They've been speaking less and less lately; it killed Niou to think about it, but he couldn't deny the fact that they were. Just like how Niou himself was dealing with all _this shit_ with his packs of cancer sticks, his teammates each had their ways—they just didn't know about it yet—to cope, and this was most probably Yagyuu's way of doing so.

Even though he knows…it hurt, because their friendship's falling apart and there was nothing Niou could do about it, not when he was like _that_ —doing things he knows is wrong and still continuing and only regretting. No, he doesn't have the right.

So, he watches as his best friend slowly inch out of his life, watches Marui brood over his inability to focus, watches Jackal become more and more like a robot without a soul, watches Yanagi live in a world of data, watches the seaweed haired brat torment his _soul_ and others, and he watches Sanada fall apart from the stress of living up to the expectations of others. Niou realizes that he was the only one left whose mind was still clear from the situation at hand, and he thinks about how sad it was…

That the only one left sane had no right to act as the beacon of light to those who have fallen down deep in despair.

He reaches deep into the pockets of his shorts and curls his fingers around the half empty packet of cigarettes, squeezing it so tight, as if it was the only thing tying him to the edge of the cliff, saving him from the plunge down into nothingness.

Just like they did.

 

.~.

 

Kirihara growled at the non-regular standing on the other side of the net. Yet another boneless tofu. Why the fuck was he playing against weaklings? The black haired youth stomped away from the court, towards his vice-captain, who was standing alongside Yanagi, at the fences surrounding the tennis courts. He wants challenges, not some bean curd asshole who was weaker than a goddamn _wall_!

"Sanada-fukubuchou."

Yanagi spared him a glance before returning to his notebook—he's been staring at that _thing_ more than anything, Kirihara noticed. Ignoring the data master, Kirihara stomped his foot on the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum a few times, as Sanada did not seem to have seen or _heard_ his approach.

Sanada frowned and tilted his head down—finally—and opened his mouth, pausing, as if trying to comprehend why Kirihara was in front of him, and said, "Akaya. You're supposed to be playing a game."

"Oh, was it a game? I didn't notice, considering that I won in less than a fucking minute!" Kirihara gritted his teeth in irritation. "Play against me."

"…what?"

Kirihara blew his bangs out of his eyes and growled under his breath. It had been increasingly getting annoying talking to Sanada, for he sometimes took too long to reply and—shit! "Play a match against me."

"No," Sanada firmly answered, and for the first time in a long time, he seemed to be completely _there_ , not lost somewhere in his thoughts, but _there_. "I will not, Akaya. If you're not satisfied, you will do your drills."

"I don't want to do my fucking drills! I want you to play a match against me." Kirihara stared directly into Sanada's eyes—they were bloodshot, why? And he looks fairly tired—and continues, "You said that you'll take me on anytime."

Sanada opens his mouth to rebut, but Yanagi cuts him off, "You should, Geinchirou. One match."

"Renji—"

"It's safe if _you're_ the one playing."

Kirihara sneaks a grin towards the data master, which was unfortunately unnoticed, for Yanagi still had his nose buried in his notebook.

"…alright. Onto the courts, Akaya."

Kirihara smirks and twirls his racket in his hand. He have been practicing for this moment. For strength, for power, for Yukimura. And to show this, he's going to defeat one of the Three Demons: Sanada Geinchirou.

 

.~.

 

_Fuck!_ Kirihara slams his racket onto the ground. It bends and becomes unusable for future play, but he doesn't care. Not enough. Still not enough. He hears Sanada's shoes scruff against the ground as he walks away, and Kirihara curses.

"What the hell are you looking at!" he scowls at the non-regulars skirting about. He swears he saw a sneering grin, and Kirihara saw red. "Don't look down on me!" His fingers scrape along the ground as he picks up the damaged racket. "Go away!" The racket soars through the air, and hits an unknowing non-regular in the back of his head.

Strength. He needs more strength.

_For Yukimura, for Rikkaidai._

He can't let anyone defeat him ever again.

 

.~.

 

Yagyuu stands a distance away from where his fellow teammates are sitting. The Prefectures have began and Rikkaidai are awaiting their turn. The winner of the match in the adjacent courts will be their opponent and Yagyuu watches them with the eyes of a hawk. He's not as analytical as Yanagi—would never be, and never wants to. He simply prefers this over sitting by his teammates' side.

He wants to get away. From them, from all of this, from everything.

 

.~.

 

Doubles One. Doubles One with Yanagi.

Jackal tests the grip tape he recently changed. He's here to play, to win. That's what they told him he had to do. The referee announces for the players to get onto the courts. Jackal stands, Yanagi a few steps in front of him.

Play. Win. Get Marui some cake.

Silently and emotionally, Jackal does as he's told.

 

.~.

 

"Yukimura."

Sanada's here again. Yukimura's on his— _the—_ bed like always—what else can he do in the hospital?—and stares out of the window. Prefectures…he'd missed yet another tournament. Yukimura felt his hands tighten their hold on his— _the_ —blanket, and his mouth is dry. The Kantou Tournament's merely a month away, and the Nationals not more than one month after that.

Is he going to be wasting his time away on his— _the_ —hospital bed while everyone else is out there playing _tennis_?

He doesn't want to think about it. He thinks about death instead, because it felt more relieving than having to miss out while still being _alive_. At least when he's dead, he wouldn't feel anything, wouldn't feel the pain of being left out.

"You won." Ah…when did 'Rikkaidai' become _you_ , instead of _we_? "I don't need-" don't _want_ "-to hear it, Sanada. Get out."

"…I'll visit again, Yukimura."

Yukimura shuts his eyes and hears Sanada step out of his— _the_ —room, the door sliding shut behind him. It is only when he's alone does he glance around his white, and depressing room. When did he start thinking of all _this_ as _his_?

He doesn't want to know.

 

.~.

 

Marui prods the stray tennis ball with a stick. No, not a stick, his tennis racket. Why did he think that it was a stick? It doesn't matter anyway. He's forbidden from stepping into the courts again. For a match. It's a wonder he's still allowed to do drills; when everything he thinks is five centimetres from his body is actually ten. It's not a flipping vision problem, because he has _nothing_ wrong with his vision. It was just…frustrating.

No one seems to be able to help too. Sanada only grumbles and growls; Yanagi's rattling nonsensical yadda-yadda; Jackal's just blank and it's freaking creepy…

Marui shakes a thought out of his head and pushes himself up into a standing position, rolling the tennis ball with the sole of his shoes instead. He swipes his racket in the air, aiming for the ball, missing a few times, before hitting contact, and sandwiches the ball in between the side of his shoe and face of the racket. A little kick and the ball is up in the air, where he tries to catch it, and fails.

A growl rumbles up his throat. Kicking into a jog, Marui chases after the runaway tennis ball, and slows when the ball vanishes from his sight. He frowns, spots a pair of shoes where he last saw the ball, and slowly looks up. Niou has his hand outstretched, _there_ , the runaway tennis ball in his hand. Marui very nearly thanks the Trickster but pauses when he realizes that _Niou_ was _helping_ him; treating him like a—

Marui grabs the ball, thanks the heavens that he didn't miss in front of _Niou_ , and trots back to his spot. He wrinkles his nose and wonders why Niou's deodorant was so strong.

 

.~.

 

The other student councils filed out of the door briskly; the meeting had gone on longer than expected, and they were all wiped out, ready to head home to rest. However, remaining behind was the Student Council President, Yagyuu Hiroshi, who continued to sit at the head of the table, flipping through neat piles of paper. He hears the ticking of the clock hanging up on the wall: _tick tock, tick tock_.

If he shuts his eyes and strains his ears to listen, he would hear the _thumping_ of feet; _plunks_ from hitting a tennis ball with the racket face; _splashing_ of bodies in water; and the barking of captains from various school teams at their team members.

Time goes by. _Tick tock, tick tock_.

He still remains in the empty room.

He's not purposely staying behind (lies), he has work to complete (lies), planning for the school festival later in the year ( _lies_ ). He's not avoiding his teammates (he's a liar and he knows it).

_When was the last time I called Niou-kun?_

Too long.

_Yanagi-kun? Jackal-kun?_

He doesn't remember anymore.

Yagyuu stills his hands, allowing the sheets of paper to slide down onto the floor. He bends the top half of his body over the table and holds his head in his hands.

He wants to get away…

 

.~.

 

A week left before the Kantou Tournaments, and Sanada's taking a huge risk. Yanagi records the shade of the dark rings circling the vice-captain's eyes, and the size of his eye bags, and deduces that the vice-captain had stayed up all night to come up with this idea _and_ deciding to go through with it.

They were letting Marui play a match. A match between their best doubles combinations: Marui and Jackal versus Niou and Yagyuu. A huge risk, necessary, but a risk nonetheless.

Yanagi doesn't know whether to feel concerned, or excited to watch how the match will enfold. Marui's lack of focus was an obvious negative for their pair, however, Yagyuu had been missing out on practices quite frequently, balancing it out. Kind of. Yanagi's intrigued to find out which was more of a liability.

Sanada's biting his bottom lip beside him, and his hands are clenched tightly into fists—not from anger, but _fear_. Or nervousness, perhaps? Either way, both were interesting to note. Yanagi smiles as he looks at his page of notes. The equations, the possibilities…!

He looks back up to see the four players step into the court, taking their positions. A quick glance to the left sees Kirihara scowling like a moody teenager; annoyed and angry that he wasn't allowed to continue practicing during the match—Sanada wanted all the regulars to observe, a fine way to judge their level as of yet.

Jackal serves, and the game begins.

Words, numbers, and equations are scribbled down rapidly, ten pages are filled before the fifth game starts—2 to 2; both sides keeping their serve. In his notes records the steadiness of Jackal's defence; the void of emotions from the Brazilian towards Niou's tricky movements; Marui's glazed over eyes; the number of times he stopped chewing or blowing his gum; the number of misses, and misjudgment made by each player; Niou's breaths becoming laboured much earlier than normal; and Yagyuu's Laser Beam failing to go over the net once—Yanagi having not witnessed that happening ever.

It was obvious that all of them were below expected standards.

Midway through the eighth game, Sanada calls for the match to stop. Yanagi has to force himself not to frown at the command. The tennis ball bounces and rolls to a stop as the players snap into attention. The referee is looking slightly confused at the suddenness of the situation and Yanagi shakes his head to answer the unasked question made by the first year.

"Sixty laps, go!"

It seems Sanada had also noticed their poor performance. Marui's lack of focus, and Yagyuu's tardiness, were expected to affect performance, however, it doesn't explain _this_ much of a drop in standards, for they have already taken those into consideration. Niou's stamina's also becoming of concern—strange, Yanagi thinks—he still has yet to figure out the whole deodorant thing too, not an issue of concern but Yanagi never finds it nice to leave anything unsolved. Jackal is something else entirely. Yanagi's still trying to figure it out.

He doesn't remove his eyes from the four as they run their laps.

 

.~.

 

"There's a surgery you can undergo—"

Yukimura can barely believe his ears. He has a chance! A chance to play tennis again! A small part of him had accepted the fact that he wouldn't be able to play, to walk, to _live_ like a normal human being ever again. A small part he always pretended didn't exist.

"—but the probability is low. There's only a fifty-percent chance that—"

"I'll take it," he says firmly. It's been a long time since he had felt this way; confident and _strong_. The doctor is taken aback, he can tell, so he repeats, "I'll take it."

The doctor clears his throat. "Are you sure? I would presume you'd want more time to consider—"

Yukimura doesn't care. He wants to do it. He wants to be fixed. He doesn't care if he'll die trying, because he'd be better off dead if he had to live the rest of his life in a hospital, on a _bed_ , unable to _move,_ to do _anything_.

"I'm sure."

And the decision is made. The surgery is set on the day of the Kantou Finals. Yukimura stares at the calendar. It doesn't matter. He'll make it to the Nationals. And if the surgery fails…he wouldn't be there to think about it anyway.

 

.~.

 

They witnessed Seigaku's Tezuka's injury and loss to Hyoutei's Atobe, as well as Seigaku's freshman regular, Echizen Ryoma's win against Hyoutei's Hiyoshi—a second year who kept up nicely with Kirihara during the Newcomers Tournament—resulting in Seigaku's eventual victory against Hyoutei.

They never thought much about it, until now.

Running towards the club Kirihara frequents, Sanada grits his teeth as he curses at the second year under his breath. _What the fuck was he thinking?_ One of the club members directed them towards the court Kirihara was said to be in with a shout and a point. Sanada nods in gratitude, rubs his eyes roughly, and continues, the other regulars following right behind him.

Sanada sees Jackal before the other boy sees them, and anger flares in his eyes.

"Jackal!"

The Brazilian doesn't start, doesn't flinch, simply turns around as if everything was _normal_. That Sanada wasn't yelling at him, and Kirihara wasn't doing anything stupid.

"Sanada—"

He doesn't let Jackal complete his sentence. Sanada feels his palm sting. Jackal has his hand up to his reddening cheek, but his eyes lack any remorse or expression—what happened? Sanada doesn't question it however, as there were more pressing issues to fix. Like Kirihara.

A creak, and Sanada whips his head around, to see a boy, wearing a cap, and a bleeding knee step out of the courts. A boy who isn't their second-year ace, Kirihara Akaya. A quick glance at the uniform—Seigaku Boys Tennis Club—and Sanada knew who the boy was.

Echizen Ryoma.

Echizen sways on the spot, and falls into Sanada's arms. Perplexed, he tries to shake him awake, but the boy remained unconscious—asleep? Sanada squeezes his eyes shut and takes a few deep breaths, counting to ten.

"Akaya?" He hears Niou say, and reopens his eyes, scanning the area for the second year. When he does, Sanada shoves Echizen to the side, towards Yanagi, and stomps up to Kirihara.

_A day before the finals. A day. Akaya, what in the world are you thinking? Never mind the fact that they still had problems with their doubles performances, now they had to deal with_ this _—whatever_ this _was—that Kirihara made!_ Sanada clenches his hands so tightly his nails draw blood. _This would never have happened if Yukimura…he's just not good enough for…_ Sanada trembles in anger, and looks at the scoreboard. _For Yukimura…_

"Akaya!" he bellows and his hand is raised, striking a heavy blow to the younger boy's cheek. "What is going on here!"

"…Sanada-fukubuchou," Kirihara's voice is trembling; he's _crying_ , "I…lost."

Sanada doesn't look at Kirihara in the eye. He can't. He doesn't know what to do.

_He can't do this as well as Yukimura can._

 

.~.

 

_"Out!"_

Niou hunches over, breathing heavily. His free hand clenches the front of his shirt as his eyes widen in terror. He thinks back to the moment right before he hit the shot. The sharp pain in his chest had caused his hand to jerk, and he lost control of his hit, hitting the ball wildly, out of bounds. He hears Seigaku cheer for their team, and Niou bites his lip, looking over his shoulder to check Yagyuu's reaction.

He didn't seem to have noticed.

Good. That's good. Niou tries to calm his racing heart and swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. He walks to his position and tries not to think about what had happened.

It wouldn't have been anything good anyway.

 

.~.

 

_Why? Why am I never strong enough?_

He lost to Sanada. Lost to Echizen Ryoma. And now, he lost to Fuji Syuusuke. Kirihara sits on the bench and watches his vice-captain step onto the court. Kirihara looks down at his laps and clenches his fists. His lips tremble and teardrops fall. Everyone else is focused on the match that had just started, so they don't notice him.

He'd vowed that he wouldn't lose. Vowed to Yukimura.

_Sorry. I'm so sorry, buchou…_

He'd failed. Not once, not twice, but thrice. Failed not himself, but Yukimura, and Rikkaidai. How could he have been so _weak_?

 

.~.

 

_"Game, set, match! Seigaku wins!"_

Time seemed to have slowed for the Rikkaidai regulars, their eyes widening at the scores on the scoreboard. Whilst the Seigaku regulars were rejoicing over their win over the previous year's champions, King Rikkai, the Rikkaidai regulars' thoughts were far away from reality. Pale, ashen faces; white knuckles; shallow, and painful breaths. Neither of them thought about the loss right in front of them.

They had a much greater, and devastating fear.

They thought that they had lost Yukimura too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the last, I think. It should be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams, tests, assignments. Need I say more?

* * *

 

 

They rushed to the hospital, lungs screaming, muscles burning, but they didn't care, because all they wanted was to see their captain. Living and breathing. It should feel improbable after their defeat, but Yukimura's all they have. They cannot, will not, think of a future without him in it.

The doors to the operating room slide open and the regulars screech to a halt, panting and _waiting_. They will _not_ see Yukimura's lifeless body be wheeled out. (They had that inkling thought at the back of their minds). They will see to it that Yukimura's healthy and alive. (They believe it, after a long struggle with two conflicting thoughts). They will regain their honour at Nationals, with Yukimura leading the way.

Yukimura is finally wheeled out and they are so relieved they cry. Because Yukimura is alive, and they can _live_ again.

Yukimura is with them and everything will be alright.

.~.

It is a little over a week till Nationals that Yukimura is discharged from the hospital.

Rehabilitation was a high hurdle he had to overcome. But, Yukimura thinks, he had faced higher hurdles. He returns to the court with a stern face. He'd learnt of their defeat at Kantou after he awoke and it isn't until he's discharged does he let it sink in.

Because Rikkaidai never loses.

How could they?

He supervises the regulars' training. Sees them push themselves further than ever before. He's never felt so proud of his team. Because even though they've sank so far down with their heads covered under quicksand, they always pull themselves back up again.

Yes, he finally believes they lost.

But Rikkaidai will never let it set them back. They will push harder and stronger forwards, all to achieve their goal. And maybe it'll be because of their loss that they will.

After all, one must lose before they can gain.

He smiles, and calls for his team.

.~.

They're in the locker room when Yukimura learns about the effects of his collapse. One by one, they admit with downcast eyes. It was Niou who told them, Marui remarks. When questioned, Marui shrugs and pops a bubble, smiling as he chewed—something he haven't done in a long while. Smiling, that is.

They never knew what was wrong, he answers. Marui expresses his anger and frustration at being unable to focus, but never knowing _why_ and what he could do to make it _stop_.

"You're our strength, buchou," Niou grins a crooked grin. The silver haired Trickster still had withdrawal symptoms from his chain smoking but they're doing all they can to help, Marui often offers him a stick of gum to keep his mouth occupied. Niou opens his mouth to continue when Kirihara interrupts: "Welcome back, buchou!"

The Trickster looks annoyed for a moment, but smiles. Yukimura glances around and sees mirroring smiles on his friends' faces.

"Welcome back, Yukimura," Sanada says. His vice-captain still looks haggard, but Yanagi said that it had been a vast improvement compared to a month ago. His data master had admitted that sheepishly, muttering about how he had been so engrossed in observation and recording data. He's not holding his data book now, so Yukimura supposes he's recovering too.

Everyone's recovering. (He haven't thought of death since the operation).

"I'm back."

Kirihara throws his arms around him and they laugh.

Everything's going to be alright, they're getting better.

.~.

It's not all smooth-sailing.

Nine days before Nationals:

Yukimura wakes up feeling sick; the damning stark white walls are closing all around him. He feels claustrophobic. They remind him too much of his stay in the hospital.

Yagyuu holes himself up in the student council room. Even Niou could not coax him out.

The rest of the team, save for Yukimura, practices their drills without complaint. Yukimura sits on the bench and flips through a paint catalogue.

.~.

Eight days before Nationals:

Yagyuu apologizes for his behaviour the day before.

Marui heads towards the nurse with a large bruise emerging on his stomach where he took a tennis ball to the gut during one of his rare and sudden concentration lapses; rare ever since the success of Yukimura's surgery.

Niou enters the court an hour late to practice with guilt written all over his face and the strong scent of deodorant.

Kirihara never showed up.

.~.

Seven days to Nationals:

Yukimura enlists the aid of Sanada and Yanagi. They stand in his room, which was cleared and bare, ready for long and strenuous job the three will undertake that morning and afternoon. In front of them stands two tins of paint. Sanada wrinkles his nose at the colour Yukimura chose.

"This is going to be the ugliest room in Kanagawa."

"Not wanting to exaggerate, Genichirou," Yanagi inputs, "perhaps you should say Earth."

Yukimura merely smiles. "Let's get to work."

By the end of the day, his walls are no longer the cold and sterile white, but instead the mustard yellow of their school colour. They look as if a cat had vomited all over it, shat on it, and vomited again for good measure, but Yukimura thinks it's an improvement.

Also, he stares at the walls, maybe this can act as a show of support to ensure Rikkaidai's win at the Nationals. Yukimura snorts. He doesn't believe in prayers, God, or luck anymore.

Not ever since his first night lying on the stiff hospital bed, staring at the disgustingly white room.

.~.

Six days till Nationals:

Jackal withdrawn himself back into his robotic shell.

Sanada mutters repeatedly under his breath, "What will Yukimura do? What can I do?", only to halt, blink, face his captain standing beside him, and let the information dawn upon him that Yukimura is _here_ , beside him, and that he no longer have to live up to the expectations of others in managing the club with a steeled hand while awaiting Yukimura's return.

Kirihara doesn't show up for the second time.

Just before the regulars leave the changing room, Yanagi tells Yukimura that their second year ace have been practicing at the tennis club again. Sanada remembers a situation similar to this but remains silent.

.~.

Three days to Nationals:

They learn of Kirihara's Devil Mode. Yukimura pulls his lips into a straight line while the cogs of his brain whirls.

"A frightening skill," Yanagi remarks.

"Yes." The regulars turn to hear Yukimura's decision. "It can help us win."

The rest of practice doesn't go as fluently as Yukimura would have liked.

.~.

One day to Nationals:

None of them falls asleep that night.

.~.

A week later, on the day of the Nationals Finals, King Rikkaidai is knocked off its pedestal.

.~.

They cry. They scream. They cry again.

It hurts to see your dream crumble to dust. Especially when it had been _right there_. So close they merely had to stretch to reach it.

But, as they hug and let out their sorrows, they all have one thought on their minds: _Perhaps sometime in the future, they can look back to this day and…laugh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not at all happy with this ending. The chapter is abrupt and just a big ball of ARGH. But I cannot think of ways to fix it. I might look at this again sometime in the far, far, far, future and hopefully, make it better, but right now, I'm leaving it as it is.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
